


Biellmann Spin

by Selma



Category: Total Drama
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, some other unimportant people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-25 18:45:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4972150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selma/pseuds/Selma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short moments from the lives of the best french-canadian ice dancing jerks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Games

Jacques rings the door bell and immediately jumps to the side. Josee's mother opens the door and looks at him strangely as if she hadn't tried to throw a lamp at him last week. 

”You're early,” she says while Jacques warily eyes the water bottle she's holding.It's only half full but he knows that Josee's mother has a pretty good throwing arm. Fortunately he doesn't need to dodge anything. Josee's mother gestures towards the stairs, ”She's still in her room,” she narrows her eyes at Jacques, ”Be sure to practice your twizzle spins, last time it looked a bit out of sync.”

Jacques nods and hurries up the stairs. He finds Josee watching the recordings of another pair practicing. ”Isn't that Daphne and Tom?” he looks over her shoulder, ”Where did you get this?”

Josee smirks at him, ”I have my ways.”

Jacques wonders what ways you need to have to be able to get a recording of your rivals practicing their routine a week before the competition itself. Still, he watches it as well and can't help but notice that their twizzle looks disgustingly in sync. Jacques leans closer to get a better look, no way those ugly losers could be better at something than him and Josee. With a closer inspection Jacques actually notices that something's off in the recorded routine but before he can put his finger on it he also notices how soft Josee's hair is against his cheek. He jumps back with a mostly dignified squeak, ”Ah come on, Josee. We need to practice our own routine.”

”Yes, thank you, Jacques. Where would we be if you weren't here stating the obvious?” she stops the recording, ”But before we go to the rink, I'll need to make a stop at the mall.”

"Eh right now?”

”Let's just get into the car and go. Why are you always dawdling?” Josee picks up her things and gives him a sly look, "Mama is starting to think you're up to something.”

"But I- " Jacques starts and is interrupted by a bag thrown into his face so he gives up and simply hurries after Josee not wanting to left alone with the woman who makes Mrs Bates seem sweet and kind.

On their way to the mall Josee was worryingly quiet. She always had something to say about what they needed to practice and where Jacques weak point were. Jacques tried to bring up their supposedly being out of sync but Josee just huffed at him until he fell silent. And if he had bad feeling then it only intensified when they ran into none other than the star of the practice recordings.

”Oh hi guys!” Daphne waved at them, ”Are you psyched for the competition? Me and Tom are super excited,” she winked at them, ”May the best skater win, right?”

Josee giggled at this and Jacques started to look for exits. ”Yes, so excited," Josee says sweetly, "Especially since I didn't think you and Tom were going to be competing this time. Glad to know I was wrong.”

Daphne's smile dims, "What? Why... why wouldn't we compete?"

Josee glanced at Jacques, like they were sharing a secret. Jacques knew he wasn't the brightest blade on the ice when it came to things that didn't have to do with lifts and such to know that right now he had no idea what was going on. "Well, it's just... his ankle?" Josee said carefully, keeping eye contact with Jacques a second longer before looking at Daphne again who bit her lip. "Didn't you know? He made bad move with his last partner. It was terrible, right Jacques?"

But as a dancer, Jacques certainly knew his cues, "Oh yes, it was horrible!" the 'h' almost swallowed up by his accent to really show how truly horrible this supposed accident had been.

"His ankle was in a really bad shape. I heard you started practicing again but I didn't think it had time to heal," Josee explains.

Daphne frowned, "He never said anything about his ankle... I thought Sandra broke off their partnership because she decided to go to university?"

Josee gasped, "Oh no, I feel terrible. He didn't tell you? Perhaps he's embarrassed. Or maybe he doesn't want you to worry, I mean if you haven't noticed him favoring his left then it shouldn't be any trouble. But please, don't tell him I said anything. I would simply hate myself if he knew that I broke his trust, I just thought he told you.” Josee smiled at Daphne, ”Well, good luck. We're going to the rink now, better get some practice if you and Tom are ready to compete.”

Daphne smiled but didn't seem nearly as chipper.

Once Daphne was out of sight Josee started to herd Jacques back to the car. ”But didn't you need something... eh what was it again?”

”Don't be stupid, Jacques.”

”I'm not stupid!” he huffed and jogged around to passenger's side to hold the car door open for Josee.

"Well, you fooled me," she replies as she gracefully gets in the passenger's seat.

"Then I guess I'm smarter than you," Jacques quickly closes the door. That's the only way he'll ever get the last word. He gets in beside her in the car, ”How did you know Daphne was going to be here? Wait, let me guess... you have your ways?”

”Of course,” Josee smirked at him, ”And she's always willing to let things like getting a part time job at some stupid store when you're having a friendly chat.”

”Friendly?” he grins at her.

”Just start the car.”

They drove in silence before Jacques couldn't help himself: ”You do know that Sandra did leave for university? And that as far as we know, Tom has never hurt his ankle?”

Josee simply shrugs, ”You seemed awfully eager to collaborate my story back with Daphne,” she muttered.

Jacques chuckled, ”Ah yes, I was curious to see where you were going with it. What do you think will happen when Daphne asks Tom about his ankle?”

”Oh she won't ask him about that,” Josee grinned, ”She'll just think back on their last practice session when he kept favoring his left. Why hasn't he told her anything? What if he drops her?” Josee mock gasped but her played worry quickly developed into a self-satisfied laugh.

”And their disgusting in sync twizzle will out sync itself?” he said out loud and something electric zipped along Jacques' spine and settled in his stomach.

"Thank you, Jacques for explaining my own plan for me but yes. That's the idea,” she says tersely but then she smiles at him and it's sharp and perfect like well executed Biellmann spin.

Later, when they take a water break during the practice session Josee was back to her usual lectures. She's going through everything that needs to be better while Jacques brings them water and their jackets to keep warm. ”The reason our twizzle is off is because, and I know that you don't get to hear this very often, you're overthinking it, Jacques,” she tells him as he helps her put the jacket on.

”Oh haha... ” Jacques mutters, ”Maybe it is you who's underthinking it?”

”Please, don't be dumb.”

”I'm not dumb,” he sighs, ”It's just, when you move... it is perfection made to look easy.”

Josee's stern lecturing face loses some of it's sharpness, ”Hm, as I said. You're overthinking it. When you dance with me, it will be easy. I do the enough thinking for the both of us.”

”Yes... ” Jacques eyes her thoughtfully, ”You do, don't you?”

”What's that supposed to mean?”

Jacques moves a bit closer to her, ”Why did Sandra quit?”

His partners shrugs and doesn't really meet his eyes, ”I might have told her that Tom danced with her because he liked her,” Josee's voice turns sugary sweet, ”'But I'm sure that if Tom believes you're good enough, then it must be true',” as finishing touch Josee bats her eyelashes at Jacques and it makes the electric feeling that previously settled in his stomach zip around again.

"Oh Josee... " Jacques whispers against her soft hair, ”You're so beautifully devious you send chills down my spine."

"What? It's not my fault they actually fall for it,” Josee says nonchalantly but there's a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, ”We need this win if we want to make it to the Olympics."

Jacques takes her hand, ”The others won't stand a chance against us. They never had a chance and they never will.”

Josee rolls her eyes, "Once again, you state the obvious.”

When they get out on the ice again, they move as one.


	2. Partners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing about ice dancing. This is completely true.

When he was eight Jacques’ mother Adele was thrilled that he wanted to start ice dancing. She’d been delighted when he started dancing with Josee. Now that he was 19 and dreams of the Olympics started to seem more real than anything else, she was still just as supportive but now there was a certain careful edge to it. Jacques' father Simon on the other hand had never been against the ice dancing but he’d never been a fan either. When he was at his most melodramatic, Jacques thought that was almost worse than outright hostility.

It was difficult to rebel against mild-mannered disapproval and the way his parents would merely glance at each other with a frown whenever he didn’t do what they wanted.

“Please, Jacques, I told you that we were going to visit your grand-mère this weekend," his mother said.

“Yes and I told you that I needed to stay and practice with Josee,” Jacques made a show of being completely focused on his breakfast. It was, after all, the most important meal of the day.

“If Jacques gets to stay, then I want to stay too,” his younger sister Rebecca muttered. She was not looking forward to being the only one their grand-mère could coerce into giving her a foot rub since their two older sisters moved out and Jacques had stopped coming along for the visits.

“Too bad,” Jacques said with a smirk, “Babies can’t stay at home while mama and papa are away.”

“I’m not baby!” Rebecca hissed, “And you’re not even a real grown up. You still live at home.”

Hopefully not for long if he and Josee could get that deal with the sponsors, Jacques thought. Until then he stuck his tongue out at his sister who quickly returned the gesture. As always, Adele looked at Simon who put his newspaper down. “You practiced yesterday,” was his father’s brilliant input to conversation.

Jacques sighed, “That was ballroom dancing, today we’re going to the rink.”

“She will be so happy if you come and visit, you know. It was a while ago,” his mother started carefully, "She barely gets to see you now a days because of your schedule with Josee. It’s not that we’re not proud of you." His father snorted and raised the newspaper again and Jacques felt a small amount of gratitude towards his mother when she took her time to glare at Simon before continuing: "But we worry that you’re not allowing yourself to see other possibilities outside ice dancing. I know it’s important to you and Josee but I just want you to be sure that you think about what’s important to you. Not just you _and Josee_.”

And there went the gratitude.

“We’re partners,” Jacques said as if his parents could have any hope of understanding what that actually meant, “So I’m staying,” Jacques got up and ruffled his sister’s hair, ignoring her angry screech (it was nothing compared to the decibels Josee could reach), “Have fun with old stinky feet!”

“Have fun with your giiiiiirlfriend- ahhh mama! Jacques is pulling my hair!”

Once his family left for their weekend trip, Jacques did what he always did when he had the house to himself. He called Josee.

“I’m bored."

“Tragic," was Josee's compassionate reply.

“I can come and pick you up now, if you like.”

“Little early for practice. I still have- “

“Tell your mother that we can get a lot more practice done if we’re already at my house, it’s closer to the rink,” Jacques could almost feel the presence of the scariest woman in the world on the other side of the line. Even though his mother would never understand why winning was everything he had to appreciate her for not being… well, everything Josee’s mother was.

“Alright, come and pick me up,” Josee sounded like she was doing him a huge favor. A favor she would expect him to repay. With interest. She could pack a lot into just one sentence.

”And you'll eh... wait outside?” Jacques took a deep breath and forced out, ”Please?” Josee was raking in future favors.

”You know, I don't know what mama hates more. That you're possibly not good enough or that you'll try something."

Jacques could almost hear the sly grin in her voice. ”Eh... what would I try?” he stammered.

He got an annoyed sigh in response. ”Never mind. Be here in ten.”

”But the drive to you is at least- ”

”Ten minutes or flying furniture will be the least of your worries!"

Even holding his phone at arm's length did nothing to dampen Josee's voice, ”Yes! Of course! Ten minutes. Pas de problème.”

”Obviously she's got nothing to worry about. You'd need both a brain and a spine to try anything.”

”Wait... does she think I-” the dial tone cut Jacques off.

After practice Josee stayed at his house (after an awkward phone conversation, asking for permission from her her mother). They spent the evening listening to music she thought they could use for future routines and making fun of whatever TV-show happened to be on in the background. They weren't really interested in those reality shows but it was kind of fun watching other people being really bad at everything. But not even the reminder that everyone but them were terrible could help Jacques get his mind of the conversation he had with his parents. And since Josee was in a generous mood she let him complain.

“They don’t say it out loud but I know what they mean,” Jacques let his voice turn gruff, “Jacques, mon fils, you’ll need a real job. Like… like… “ Jacques gestured wildly trying to come up with something that his father would expect of his son.

“Doctor?” Josee suggested.

Jacques snorted, “How disgusting! Looking at ugly people is difficult as it is. Looking at sick people… “ he pretend to gag, “Ugh I'd rather give my grandmother a foot rub.”

Josee grinned, “Don’t say things you don’t really mean.”

“It’s just that they want me to be so uninspiring,” Jacques whined. They were sitting curled up on the couch. Josee was sitting pretty close which Jacques hadn’t given any thought until she put her head down against his shoulder. 

“And what do you want?” she asked quietly. He glanced down at her but Josee was staring intently on the TV-screen.

Jacques knew what he wanted but he usually didn't give it any thought. And now that he was thinking about it... his train of thought halted when he caught himself playing with Josee's ponytail. He froze for a second but since her head still rested on his shoulder and he still had two hands he relaxed and started again.

”Weeeelll... ah, I'm amazing at ice dancing so I want to do that,” he said at last.

Josee lifted her head from his shoulder and Jacques let her soft hair flow between his fingers, ”I'd say you're adequate,” she sneered.

He gave her a sly look, ”But ah... I'm amazing when I dance with you, yes?”

"I guess I wouldn't have you as a partner if you weren't good enough,” Josee smiled and looked genuinely pleased.

”That's the nicest thing you ever said,” Jacques gave her an affectionate squeeze.

”Don't let it get to your head,” Josee growled and shoved him off the couch.

 *** * ***  

It was strange how good he had felt then, Jacques thought the next day, since right now he felt like someone had ripped out all his guts. He'd just finished preparing for practice in the morning when the phone in the hallway rang. Jacques expected it to be Josee but it was her mother. Jacques could barely keep his hold on the phone when he heard why she'd called him. ”What do you mean... can I talk... can I talk to Josee? Please?”

”Look, don't make it more difficult than it has to be. Josee has to focus on her ice dancing and right now that means switching partners. She needs to develop and change. In the long run, it'll be best for both of you.”

”Let me talk to her, please! No! Don't hang up! Nononononononoooooo!” he fell to his knees and let the phone fall to floor, ”Ah no! Non!” Jacques slumped forward and rested his head against the wall. The wallpaper was boring enough to calm him down a little. How could she? Had Josee really decided that she needed a new partner? No, he couldn't believe that. Not after everything. Not after all this time. It had to be her mo-... that woman! If he only could talk to Josee alone then they could sort it out.

Jacques had high hopes when drove to the ice rink the same day but he should have remembered that finding Josee without her mother was easier said than done. He found them when Josee about to go out on the ice with her new... her new... oh he couldn't even say it. The other boy was a about the same height and build as Jacques, but with light brown hair and a dusting of freckles over the bridge of his nose. Jacques was just about to grab Josee when her mother appeared from nowhere and squashed any chance Jacques had to talk to Josee alone.

”Hello, Jacques. Have you met Felix?”

The young man held out his hand and Jacques squeezed it mechanically, ”Yes. How nice,” he looked at Josee who was looking towards the ice rink. He just needed to-

”I hope there isn't any hard feeling, Jacques,” Josee's mother continued and he just look at her helplessly, ”For Josee to be the best she can be it's only natural she try different partners. We feel it's best for her development, isn't right, Josee?”

”Yes, mama,” Josee didn't even look at him, ”See you around, Jacques.”

And then she was gone. He kind of wished she'd at least yelled at him.

*** * ***

Jacques' father dared to suggest it was for the best.

”You had your fun. Now it's time to think about real life and what you want to do with it,” he said to Jacques who was desperately hoping he suddenly gained the ability to make everyone shut up with the power of his mind. Or at least get out from the garage where his father was forcing him to help organize his fishing equipment.

”Oh I know what I want to do with it,” Jacques growled as he pulled aggressively at the tangle of fish line in his hands. It wasn't piano wire but maybe it could choke the life out of that Felix just as well. He giggled at the thought making his father squirm uncomfortably.

”Non, non, you're making it worse, Jacques. If you're not taking this seriously, I won't let you help me with the fishing equipment.”

”Let?” Jacques shrieked, ”You're making me do this! When my life is in ruin."

His father smiled, ”This will help you take your mind of it. I always find that a little fishing trip helps when life is confusing.”

”Why do you hate me?” Jacques whimpered, ”Is it because I turned out better looking than anyone in this family? I can't help that you know.”

In this situation he'd usually text Josee something along the lines of: Help. Kidnapped by insane fisherman. Do something! And then she'd call and announce they need an emergency practice session. He had no one now. His friends outside the ice rink weren't the same thing as a partner. His entire family had abandoned him. His mother actually thought a fishing trip was a good idea and his last resort had only smiled at him and wished them good luck.

”Have fun with the slimy fish!” his sister said, entirely too smug for her own good.

They drove out to the lake his father and his fishing buddies frequented. There was a few of them waiting when Simon and Jacques arrived.

"Well, well... if it isn't Jacques. Haven't seen you in a while," one of his father's friends, a man with a truly horrid haircut, said as a way of greeting them. "Think I saw you last winter. You were ice skating with some girl. You were pretty good at it if I remember," he elbowed Simon, "A future hope for hockey team?"

"Actually, I- " Jacques began but his father suddenly announced that it was time to try their luck out on the lake.

"Why don't we make it interesting, Pierre," Simon said to his friend, "Best catch of the day wins the usual prize?"

Pierre grinned, "You're on. I'll beat you even if you have your boy helping you."

Of course Simon didn't get any better catch than he usually did since Jacques refused to do anything but sit in the boat as far away as he physically could from the fish.

"You could at least- "

"Ew! So gross," Jacques muttered.

Finally his sulking made his father return to shore after a couple of hours. Pierre was already waiting with a huge grin. Simon sighed and went to find another one of his friends that could act as a judge. Although he didn't have any high hopes for his chances to beat Pierre this time. Jacques stayed and stared with apprehension at Pierre's bucket filled with... slimy... cold... ugh... his stomach turned. He was almost grateful that Pierre asked for his help with loading up his car.

"You're pretty strong," Pierre said, "What was it you did again? Sure you're not going to try out for any teams?"

Jacques glanced at Pierre. They were back on the jetty were they left the buckets with the fish and his father wasn't back yet so Jacques met the other man's eyes steadily, "Didn't my dad tell you? I'm an ice dancer."

Pierre snorted, "You're a what?"

"Ice. Dancer. I'm surprised he hasn't said anything, I'm pretty good if I do say it myself. Ah, well if I'm saying it myself then I'm pretty amazing."

Pierre guffawed, "No wonder Simon's been so tight lipped about you. He said you might go to Olympics but I'd never guess it was ice dancing. Is that even a real sport?" Pierre gave Jacques what could been have interpreted as a friendly push against the shoulder hadn't it been for the way he curled his lip. Since he'd spent most of his life on ice Jacques had no trouble keeping his balance but right now, oh this was almost too easy.

"Oh no! It's really slippery! I hope I don't- " he gave the bucket a good kick before letting himself fall and land on his butt. The look on Pierre's face made everything worth it.

"Hey!" Pierre stared helplessly at the fish enjoying their new found freedom, "What did you do?"

"Wow, how clumsy of me," Jacques got back up and saw that his father was on his way back so he raised his voice a little, "It is as if ice dancing didn't require perfect reflexes, control and strength of body. How strange. I guess that means we win."

Pierre turned to Simon, "Your son kicked my fish into the lake!"

"I'm sure it was... " Simon glanced nervously at Jacques who only smiled beatifically, "... an accident."

"So sorry," Jacques said smugly, "Now, I think there was talk of a prize?"

It wasn't gold but a bottle of Bordeaux from a good year wasn't that bad. Jacques admired their prize on their way back to the house and his father asked in a round about way if he had in fact kicked the bucket into the lake on purpose.

"Does it matter? We won. Fair and... whatever. Anyway, he'll get over it."

His father looked at him at bit worriedly but let him keep the bottle since Jacques had earned it. Sort of.

Jacques put the wine next to his medals. He hated to say it but the fishing trip had actually helped. He knew what he wanted and what he had to do. He had earned the wine bottle and he would earn being Josee's partner again. Oh man, If she ever found out he even remotely compared her to wine bottle, no matter what year, she would have his head. He really missed her.

*** * ***

Jacques waited by the locket room at the ice rink until he saw Felix enter and quickly followed the other inside.

"Hey, Felix. Wait up."

Felix turned around where he dropped his bag, "Oh hi... Jacques is it?"

Jacques kept his smile in place, ”Josee asked me to come and get you. She's by the desk. Apparently there's something she needs help with. Right now."

”What did she want?” Felix asked.

”How should I know? I'm not her partner," Jacques said snidely.

Felix grumbled but he did go and so left his poor, innocent skates behind.

It was a cliché but moments like these Jacques couldn't help himself but rub his hands together gleefully, "Ahahahahahaha-"

"What are you doing?"

Jacques laughter stuck in his throat and he cleared it a few times. It was one of the players from the local junior hockey team standing in the other end of the locker room. He looked mildly uncomfortable and quickly packed his things and left.

"You saw nothing!" Jacques shouted after him. Right. Save the evil gloating for later enjoyment, as Josee always said. This time Jacques made sure that he was alone before opened up Felix's bag and pulled out his skates. If you knew how, you could loosen the screws a bit in a way that wouldn't be immediately noticeably. At least, not until you'd skated on them for a while and voila! Instant failure for a partner.

Au revoir, Felix. Welcome back, Jacques.

He bit his lip. Sure this would work but it wouldn't prove once and for all that he was the better partner for Josee but on the other hand, Josee would never hesitate like this. Jacques didn't really have a choice.

*** * ***

Jacques joined one of the other regular skaters at the rink in watching Josee and Felix practice. The other boy started talking about potential and apparently very eager girls who were lining up to be Jacques' new partner. He hummed replies without listening at all. It was painful but he couldn't stop watching the pair out on the ice. Felix was good. No doubt about that. His flip jump could use some improvement but with a partner like Josee that would soon be a thing of the past.

Jacques squinted and got the attention of the other skater, "Hey... is it just me or is Felix a bit um... wobbly?"

The other looked out at the ice, "I dunno, maybe?"

And if there was a God, it was a deity with a good sense of timing because in that instant Felix made one of the most spectacular nosedives Jacques had ever seen.

His fellow skater let out a low whistle, "Holy hell... "

Felix laid motionless on the ice while an annoyed looking Josee skated back to him. For a moment Jacques thought he might be dead before Felix let out a loud groan.

"Should his leg look like?" someone asked.

Jacques shrugged, "Probably not."

Even in the face of a furious Josee they still sent Felix  off to the hospital for his leg. Josee was practically vibrating with frustration before she stormed of the ice. Not really knowing what he would say Jacques went to find Josee before she left the ice rink. He caught up with her in the girls' locker room.

"Hey, this is the girls' locker room!" a shrill voice said as Jacques entered, as if he didn't know.

Jacques made a shushing sound at the girl, "Yes, thank you. Now please, you're are excused," he tried to wave her out of the room.

"What? No this... Josee tell him!"

"Get out."

"See, Jacques? Now, get ooofffhhh!" she was probably lucky she had finished dressing before Josee shover her out and slammed the door shut after her.

Jacques couldn't help himself and giggled at the poor, stupid girl before he could make himself look a bit more concerned. "Ah, how is Felix?" he asked.

Josee shrugged, "His leg was pretty messed up. Poor guy," Josee's voice was sweet but still managed to suggest that Felix had fallen just to spite her, ”They said it was because his skates. Apparently the blades weren't properly fastened. I guess there's no pride in good craftsmanship anymore."

Jacques gasped, ”His skates? But I didn't- ” he slammed both his hand over his big stupid mouth.

Josee's eyes were on him like a hawk on a bunny. "You didn't what, Jacques?" voice still sweet but just below the surface... there was blood in the water now. She closed in on him and Jacques moved away until his back hit the lockers Josee cornered him against. She left a few inches between them and Jacques knew that she always went for the throat no matter the odds. Josee reached up and gently pried Jacques hands away from where he still pressed them against his mouth. ”Tell me, Jacques, what didn't you do?”

”I didn't sabotage Felix's skates!” Jacques forced out in loud whisper, ”I wanted to but I didn't! I mean, I couldn't. I know that you are grace itself on the ice but what if that ugly oaf hurt you when he fell? I couldn't take that risk. Please, Josee, you have to believe me!”

Josee rolled her eyes, ”Oh I believe you didn't do it, Jacques. If I hadn't been your partner you wouldn't even know the meaning of sabotage,” she took a step back and the physical space between them hurt as much as the reminder that they weren't partners anymore. ”Mama is furious, you know. There's no good candidate that's free right now,” Josee studied her nails carefully, ”Well, except... ”

Jacques heart started hammering, ”I have been improving my flip jump lately,” he said, ”I mean, I couldn't help but notice that Felix's flip jump was a bit sloppy."

Josee's snorted, ”That was the least of his problems. It was like dancing beside him instead of with him."

”You mother won't be happy, I think.”

”She didn't have to hear Felix's costume suggestions. Can you believe it that he wanted them to be peach colored? Imagine wearing that at the Olympics.”

Jacques gasped, "What kind of lunatic... anyone can see that peach wouldn't bring out the color of your hair!" he gripped her shoulders fearfully as if a maniac with peach colored fabric could appear at any moment.

"I know!" Josee flipped her hair, "But what can you expect? You've seen his hair. Awful."

"Ugh yes, thank you! Everyone said I was overreacting when I told them it looked like a chihuahua ate a plate of poutine and then threw up.”

”That's because everyone else are idiots,” Josee stepped in closer again, it turned Jacques' grip on her shoulders into an almost embrace. She glanced up at him, ”Partners?”

Jacques pulled her close and she put her head against his chest, ”Partners.”

Their hug lasted a few seconds before Josee planted her palms against Jacques' chest and shoved him away, "Glad that's settled, grab my bag. We have a lot to do if we don't want to fall behind. Your flip jump could be better." Josee stretched her arms above her head, "And I need to clear my head from Felix's mediocrity."

”I have an excellent Bordeaux that could help,” Jacques said with a grin as he grabbed Josee's bag.

She looked over at him demurely, "Are you going to get me drunk and try something?"

Jacques felt his ears turn bright red, "Ah uh... no, that wasn't. I mean. You know." He fumbled with her bag, spilling some of its content out on the floor in the process. Happy for a distraction Jacques dove down to the floor to pick it up, "Oh no, I dropped your... screwdriver?" he looked up at Josee who merely regarded him neutrally, "Why do you have a screwdriver in your bag, Josee?"

"I think you mean lipstick."

Jacques turned the object around, "No, I'm pretty sure this is a screwdriver."

"And I'm sure that if you take another look, you'll see that's a lipstick."

"I _am_ looking, Josee, and it still looks like a scre- "

Josee's tiny fist connected with his nose and everything was right in the world again.


	3. Podium - Part 1/4

**Hello and Dubai**

To say that Josée was angry about ending up in fourth place was like saying the sky was blue. Especially since the one who beat them to even a lousy bronze were the same twins who had trouble holding their own plane tickets due to a bad paper cut three years ago. Not even her tantrum right at the carpet of completion had managed to completely calm her down again.  
"This is unacceptable!" Josée tore a pillow case into two pieces and then waved them around like she was instructing a plane to land. Jacques hoped the show would pay for the hotel room as well.

"Fourth? Fourth!" she'd kept repeating it like it would make sense if she said it enough times.   
Of course, Jacques agreed with her. They'd never missed a place on the podium. Never! But at this point it was better to just be quiet and concentrate on dodging random complimentary bathroom items. Over the years Jacques had gotten almost as good at dodging as he was at the triple Axel. Today however seemed to be one of those days where even his silence was a provocation.

Josée pointed a shaking finger at him, "You! You need to be better tomorrow!" she hissed loudly, "No more mistakes."  
"Me?" Jacques squeaked indignantly. "My forehand was perfect! Who was it that missed?" He'd gotten good at dodging random objects but apparently never learned when to keep his mouth shut.  
"What did you say?" Josée snarled and even though he knew her to be as graceful and beautiful as a bird in the sky, Jacques rather thought she kind of looked like an angry wolverine right then. A beautiful, graceful wolverine, of course, but still one that wanted to rip his guts out.

“I mean,” and he couldn’t believe that he was opening his mouth again, what was wrong with him, “With your throwing arm, hitting a little tennis ball shouldn’t have been much of challenge.” Please, strike me down now, Jacques asked whatever higher power was listening and then immediately regretted it. No higher power was listening, only Josée. He wished he could remember that backtalk was only satisfying for about three seconds. That was the time it took Josée to take it in, react and then find something to throw. As everything else she did, her aim with the mango scented shampoo bottle was impeccable.

"Not my face!"  
"It's not like it could get any worse."  
Jacques glared at her with crossed arms, "Josée! I know ýou are disappointed but do not say things you can't take back. You know my face is perfect."  
Josée looked like she was willing to try debating that but instead turned her anger towards the next target, "Look what you did! Now we don’t have any shampoo left.”  
"What are you talking about, I can just pick it up from the- " Jacques dodged a clock radio and without missing a beat continued, "But of course I'll go down to the reception and ask for another."

His only answer was an inhuman growl ("I hate mango!") and more flying projectiles as he quickly backed out of the room. If left alone for a while, she'd probably get all tuckered out by the time he got back. Then they could get some rest and be ready for the next day of the race. Of course, trying to back out of a room, close the door after you and dodge a barrage of oncoming projectiles at the same time was a bit more challenging than Jacques first thought. He managed to get out unharmed and close the door but also managed the feat of tripping over his own feet. He landed on the soft carpet out in the corridor with a dull thud. And he was supposed to be a dancer, Jacques thought ruefully, at least no one was around to see it. Except those boots just by his head. They looked like a sensible and practical pair of boots. Just his luck.

"Hey, Jacques. Almost didn't recognize you without the creepy smiling... I mean. Yeah." Sanders looked a bit bashful and offered her hand to him. Jacques pointedly ignored it and got up by himself. The police cadet glanced at the now closed door "What was that about?"  
Like she didn’t know, Jacques fumed, the cadets had even placed lower than them and still she was trying to rub it in. He walked off before Sanders could say anything else but as he walked briskly towards the elevator he heard her fall in behind him.

“Why are you following me?” he hissed at her over his shoulder.  
"Are you going down to the reception? So am I. There's only one way down. Unlike the Burj Al Arab, this place only has one elevator- Oh shoot!" Sanders bent down to re-tie her laces.  
Maybe it had been immature to take the opportunity to untie one of her boots but Jacques had rough day. This was a perfect oppertunity to lose the literal goody two shoes and have the elevator to himself. As he hurried into the elevator he heard Sanders call after him: “Can you hold it?”

Jacques smiled at her, “I'm trying but it doesn’t seem to work. C'est la vie!”  
Sanders broke into a jog, “You’re not pushing the button!”  
“I am so pushing the button!” the doors started to slide close but annoyingly enough Sanders managed to get in at the last second.  
She glared at him, “You were just pretending to push the button."  
Insulted gasp, hand against the chest, raised eyebrows; the perfect image of innocence.  
Sanders huffed, "Come on, you’re still doing it. You’re just pushing at the panel next to the door button.”  
"Ooops!" he snickered, "How did that happen? I don't know... " he met her glare with a self-confident smirk.

Silence descended in the elevator as they descended. Jacques subtly tried to check in the mirror if the shampoo bottle to the face had left any marks. Josée really did have a good throwing arm. He'd almost forgotten that Sanders was still there when she said: "Look... I'm not sure if I can trust you but..."  
"Then you're not as dumb as you look," Jacques sneered, "And you look pretty dumb."  
Sanders rubbed at her temples, "Like talking to a five year old... " she groaned, "Or to MacArthur."  
Jacques blanched, "Excuse moi?"  
"Anyway, why do you let Josée walk all over you?"  
Jacques snorted at that, "I could ask you the same."  
"What? MacArthur doesn't... okay, she can be a bit... but at least she's not mean," Sanders scratched at her neck and glanced towards the ceiling of the elevator.

Jacques pretended to invest his full attention in the mirror, fixing his mostly already perfect hair, "I wouldn't expect you to understand,” he finally said.  
"I understand that you're supposed to trust your partner. I do trust MacArthur... even if she talks more about her glutes than a sane person should."  
"Oh gross, I didn't need to know that about your girlfriend."  
Sanders knit her brows, "She's not my girlfriend,” she said and oh, wasn't that interesting.

Jacques loved it when he found a potential weak spot. Josée would be so proud. "I was going to say that I don't care but since this is my floor I can do the polite thing and leave without saying anything," the elevator door opened with the usual ding.  
"How is that the polite thing?” Sanders looked exasperated, “And you still said it.”  
“Wow, do you want a medal for stating the obvious?” Jacques drawled and since he hadn't stuck his hand down a glove full of bullet ants just to be compared to that ugly oaf of a police cadet, he had perfectly sensible reason for what he did next.

"Well ah anyway, this is where I get off but it looks like you're going down," he dragged his hand all over the button panel, "And up!" Jacques gave Sanders a friendly smile and a less friendly shove as the elevator door's closed.

"Bon voyage!" 

Jacques laughed the entire way to reception, managed to ask for another bottle of shampoo between giggling snorts and he snickered the entire way back before he remembered that hotel only had one elevator. Still, he thought as he finally opened the door to their room, the look on Sanders' face had been worth it.

"You're back," Josée was lying on the bed facing the ceiling. She seemed to have run out of steam.  
"And I bring gifts! Scented with strawberry!" Jacques held up the bottle proudly.  
Josée snorted, almost sounding a bit embarrassed about the whole thing, "Good work," and she held his gaze a bit longer than strictly necessary when you were praising someone for bringing a bottle of shampoo. Jacques felt a familiar flutter in his chest, like his heart didn't know what it was supposed to be doing. He put the bottle away and let himself collapse next to Josée on the bed.

"You have your own bed," Josée huffed but made no attempt to shove him off.  
Jacques finally felt himself relax, "You will love this, I met one of the police wannabees on the way down to the reception... "

Even though he was sweaty and exhausted from the hike up the stairs, Jacques still thought the sound of Josée's laugh was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ship Sanders/MacArthur but... I also like the thought of MacArthur having a fling with Brody. So... I'm writing both. The race helps MacArthur get in touch with a lot of feelings she has for Sanders.


	4. Podium - Part 2/4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened after they reached the Carpet of Completion on Iceland. Special guest star: Björk!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if swan lady was supposed to actually be Björk or just a shout out. But because I love her music and her sense of style ( ... or lack of?) I kept writing her as Björk.

**Bjorken Telephone**

Don thought nothing could be worse than being attacked by a rabid vegan. Of course, he'd never thought that he would ever be stalked by a lady in a swan dress on Iceland. After all the racers reached the Carpet of Completion and after they managed to get Laurie off him, the swan lady just sort of... stuck around. Especially around Don. Right now, he was trying to hide behind a rocky outcropping in what he hoped still was a dignified manner. The camera crew and the racers were waiting for the arrival of the bus that would take them to the hotel. None of them were of any help to him. Don suspected that they were actively ignoring him. Just like the show producers.

"Yes, I get that a famous local will boost viewership abroad," Don pressed his hand harder against the earpiece while the producers babbled about demographics, "But she won't leave me alone!"

"Singing is a celebration of oxygen," said a soft, slightly accented voice from somewhere over his shoulder.

Oh jeez. How did she get right behind him again? It was like she didn't even need to breathe.

Don slowly turned around. She had this quirky smile that somehow was even creepier than the Goths. "I'm a blood fountain, in the shape of a girl."

Or maybe the creepiness came from the swan's beady eyes that seemed to follow you no matter how fast you tried to get away.

Sadly, the sight of Don being chased by an Icelandic music sensation wasn't enough to take Josée's mind off the fact that they'd placed third. Beside her, Jacques only managed a weak smirk when Don ran right into the side of the camera crew's van.

"From gold to bronze in just a day," he muttered despondently as Don got up again and ran off somewhere else.

"Don't remind me," Josée growled, "And now we have to wait around with the rest of the... trash."

Jacques looked up sharply at her, worrying at his lip, "Josée... ma petite chou... "

How could someone be so annoying and still be able to actually make her feel bad about what she did and said? Everyone had a weakness as her mother had always said. Josée had a suspicion that Jacques was her weakness.

"I might as well say it because that's what we amounted to out there today. We need to push ourselves tomorrow."

"I think we-”

Josée interrupted him: "If I left the thinking to you, we'd be nothing and you'd be a fisherman like your dad."

"My dad's an accountant," Jacques commented feebly.

Josée wanted to tear her hair out. Jacques however seemed to sense, like he always did, when she was about to tip over, "Which isn’t your point, yes, I mean. It's good. You push us towards excellency. I know this," he started to wring his hands all the while glancing at her. Josée looked away. Jacques was soft and she knew that if they wanted to win she couldn't encourage or condone it. Her mother always told her that to be a winner, you couldn't be weak. Still looking away, Josée fumbled until her hands found Jacques'. Hers were ridiculously tiny next to his but it still did the trick, Jacques' hands stopped his hand-wringing and Josée immediately let go. 

"We won once already, we can do it again," she cleared her throat and lowered her voice, "Together."

When she glanced towards him, Jacques was beaming at her like an idiot.

"Stop that. You look like a cow," she sneered.

Josée needed to prove herself to world. Sometimes she thought Jacques only tried to prove himself to her.

"Good news, everyone!" Don announced loudly, suddenly having returned with the swan lady by his side.

"Is the bus here yet?" someone shouted from the back.

"Eh, not yet... but!" Don looked triumphant, "Turns out Björk, which apparently is her real name, wasn't being weird... okay, she was, but she also wanted to ask permission to sample my recorded screams for her new song. Pretty cool, huh?"

"I am grateful... grapefruit," Björk said in agreement.


End file.
